Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I manage a grin, but I can’t stop staring at her, my mind reeling. I don’t know a thing about Harper Wozniak, but even if everything she’s hoping to achieve lines up with my own beliefs, there’s no way I can work for my father’s rival. It’s a massive betrayal.
“I don’t think so,” I finally say, the words thick in my throat. “That’s big.”
“Huge,” she agrees. “And I don’t expect you to decide right away. All I’m asking is that you think about it.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Tell me more about this position then.”
Tessa offers more details, including about her own job. She’ll be one of Wozniak’s speechwriters for the campaign, and if Wozniak wins, Tessa will be part of her staff full-time. Apparently, there could be a full-time position for me too, if not with Wozniak’s office, then with Pamela Kerry on another campaign.
“I spoke to both of them about you in length,” Tessa says. “They’re intrigued.”
“Yeah, because they’re thinking of how they can spin it. Look, voters! Representative Larsen’s own son doesn’t support him.”
“You can still support your father in his primary. Harper isn’t trying to unseat him. They’re not even in the same district. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“When would I start?”
“In May, after graduation.”
We walk in silence for a few more minutes. The offer continues to run through my mind, and by the time we circle back to the townhouse, I’m a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions.
I can’t deny this sounds interesting. I had no idea what job I’d line up after graduation. To be honest, I haven’t even started looking. And now this offer just lands in my lap.
I can’t not consider it, right?
“Do you mind if I use your bathroom before I make the drive back to Boston?” Tessa asks.
“Sure. I still can’t believe you drove all the way here for a twenty-minute chat.”
“I really want you to take this job, Will.” We pause on the stoop, and she reaches for my hand. It’s not a romantic gesture but one of encouragement. “You’re one of the only people I think actually belongs in politics. You have integrity. I think you could make a real difference in this sphere.”
“I’ll think about it” is my noncommittal response. “When do I need to let them know by?”
“Ideally within the month.”
I nod, opening the front door. We step into the hall just as Charlie approaches it, slipping on her coat. A shirtless Beckett trails after her with a travel cup of what I’m assuming is green tea. He bends down to give her a kiss on the lips.
“For the drive, sugar puff,” he says, handing her the cup.
She looks touched, beaming at him. “Thanks.”
When they notice Tessa’s small frame tucked behind me, they startle.
I quickly make the introductions. “Guys, Tessa Diaz. Tessa, this is my roommate and teammate, Beckett. And, uh, Charlotte.” I stutter over this one. “His girlfriend.”
Beckett doesn’t even blink, and Tessa simply nods, uninterested in any personal details. But the introduction is now seared into my brain because I’d felt it in my chest. The lie. The omission. Whatever it was.
It felt too awkward to introduce Charlie as anything other than Beckett’s girl—we just saw him, without a shirt, kissing her. But it evokes a rush of guilt, because Charlie isn’t only his. She’s mine too.
I should be proud of that. I should want to advertise it to the entire world. This is my girl.
But deep down…I know what stopped me just now. A part of me was embarrassed. Of how Tessa might see us. How she might see me.
And as that bleak truth settles over me, I suddenly hear it. Tick-tock. Tick-fucking-tock. It drums a beat in my head. The clock. The countdown.
The realization that sooner or later, this complicated arrangement is going to come crashing down around us.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
BECKETT
Safe
I WANT TO BE AT THE GRAHAM CENTER EARLY TODAY SO I CAN SHOW my dad around the facility, but Will has his head buried in his laptop and isn’t ready to go, so he tosses me the keys to his SUV and says he’ll catch a ride to the rink with Shane.
Despite the circumstances that landed Dad on my doorstep, I’m happy to see the big oaf. It’s always a good time with him. He’s going to tail the team bus this afternoon in Will’s car and come to our game against Quinnipiac.
As I reverse out of the driveway, the sun glints off the windshield and reflects the snowdrifts on either side of the street. We got lucky with the snow situation this winter. So far at least. The temperature has been freezing, but the snowfall has been almost nonexistent. According to my Marine Ecology and Conservation professor this term, climate change is the devil, and soon all the oceans will dry up and we’ll all die of heatstroke. Actual rant she went on last week when someone asked if a mild New England winter is a bad sign.